


Here And Only Here

by Zai42



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cuntwarming, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Subspace, Under-desk oral, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Sasha hates paperwork.
Relationships: Sasha Racket/Zolf Smith
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	Here And Only Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flammenkobold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/gifts).



> Standard "canon timelines fuck off" disclaimer. Sasha is alive in the present and also formed the Harlequins because I do as I please and I will not be stopped. <3

Sasha shifts, just slightly, in her seat, and the movement jolts Zolf out of his trance, just slightly. Her hand comes to tangle in his hair, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. “All right, Zolf?” she murmurs, and leans back to peer at him below her desk. He nods dreamily and squeezes her thigh, presses a kiss into her wet and open sex, eyes slipping closed once again.

Sasha hates paperwork, and Zolf hates being alone in his head, and so they have arrived at a solution that suits them both. When she has to take care of Harlequin business - letters, codes, all the boring parts of running a resistance - he takes care of _her._ There is nothing to worry about - no pressing urgency, no threat of the looming end of the world - there is only her, and the heady scent of her, and the slow, slick press of his tongue against her cunt, blood-hot and soft. There isn’t even the obligation to make her come, just to keep her wet with long, easy strokes while she works, and he can close his eyes and breathe her in and _not think._

Her hand stays in his hair, her fingers flexing in soft scritches, and Zolf hums quietly, sealing his lips around her clit so the sound will vibrate up her spine. Her breath catches for just a moment. Her fingers tighten in his hair.

Zolf strokes up her legs, swipes his thumb along her inner thigh. Her skin is warm and soaked and sticky, drenched with hours’ worth of sweat and slick and spit, and when Zolf runs his tongue between her lips she is loose and open and sopping. She is all he can taste, all he can smell, surrounding him and muffling the world beyond where he is bracketed by her legs. She shifts again, slings her calves over his shoulders and slouches in her chair with a letter held up over her head while she reads it. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of her belly and readjusts himself to sink once more between her lips.

He can press deeper into her like this, dipping his tongue into the hot core of her, wrapping his arms around her and gently tugging her lips apart, holding her open, sighing as he buries his face into her. Her thighs are flexing around his ears, strong muscles clenching in rhythmic pulses; her hips lift up off her chair, just slightly, little rocking motions against his mouth. His face is shining with her, wetness smeared from his nose to his chin, clinging to his beard and lips.

She doesn’t always come, when they do this. Doesn’t always feel the need to, doesn’t necessarily want anything more than something pleasant to focus on while she works, but Zolf can feel the tension in her muscles and wants to take it away. He won’t, not without asking; here as anywhere, he trusts her judgement over his own. He whimpers, softly, muffled against her cunt, and doesn’t need to pull away to voice his question. She strokes his hair. “Yeah,” she says, breathlessly. “Go ahead.”

He sucks gently at her clit, circles his tongue around her once, twice, and then the letter she had been reading flutters to the floor and her other hand twists itself into his hair. She arches her hips up, grinds hard against his mouth, and Zolf moans while she goes stiff and lets out one hard exhale through her nose.

When she’s boneless in her chair, sprawled out in a heap of splayed limbs, Zolf mouths at her still, little kitten licks, gentle and light. “Thanks, Zolf,” Sasha murmurs. She’ll need to sit up, soon - there’s no way that position is good on her spine. And Zolf is certain his legs will complain at him later. But for now he kneels between her thighs, dreamy and floating while she pets his hair, content to be here and only here. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Flammen for being a pillar of this fandom and reminding me how hard I shipped these two back when I first started listening <3 <3


End file.
